Basic Decorum
by The Bumble and the Bee
Summary: Tim Shepard is too mean to play well with nice girls, but somehow, he can't bring himself to care about that.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does

**Title:** Basic Decorum

**Summary: **Tim Shepard is too mean to play well with nice girls, but somehow, he can't bring himself to care about that.

Prologue

There ain't much to see from the back porch at Bucks. A tiny sparse yard that overlooks a few other dumpy houses, and beyond that a few industrial buildings with constantly smoking chimneys. Occasionally, a couple that lives in one of the other houses will get into some blow-out fight, and if anyone is out back they'll give a shout and people will swarm the yard and throw their own jeers in, but today it's silent.

Tim goes out to smoke, because he only smokes when he needs to think and you can't do that inside anyways. He had come that night because Margret Sullivan, this chick he'd been trying to get with for a week or so now, was supposed to be there. She was, but so was Ned Quill, a pal of his, who told him some unfortunate news concerning the RKs taking about twenty bucks worth of beer from this shop on a corner that they had clearly agreed was the Shepard's turf. And as hot as Margret Sullivan was in her tight red dress and pumps that made her legs look about a mile long, he had bigger fish to fry.

Now, normally, he wouldn't be too bothered by news like that. Find out who did it, beat the ever loving shit out of them, and forget the whole deal. But things with the RKs had been weird the past few weeks. Now, the Shepard gang and the RKs weren't _friends_, not by any means, but they had an understanding and got along well enough, except for a few fights over idiotic shit. But lately they'd been testing things. Getting close to the border, flirting with girls they knew were taken, throwing out insults casually. And now this.

Tim wasn't stupid. Something was up, and he wasn't going to walk into an open trap. If they were trying to pick a fight, he wanted to know why before he made a dumb choice.

But it wasn't like he could let that slide. Then they'd think he was giving up, and he never went down without a fight. So he's in a pretty tight spot, since he has to retaliate but has to be careful about how to go about it.

So he needs a smoke.

He's just figuring out a scheme when the door slides open and a girl steps out. He glances up to her, then back out over the yard. She's small, with light brown hair and big brown eyes. She's pretty pale. Her figure isn't anything worth taking notice of her clothing for.

She sort of nods at him and then walks as far down the porch as possible, placing her palms on the rail, leaning over, and throwing up.

It's pretty disgusting.

And distracting.

And it takes a while.

When she's done, she looks up and blushed bright pink. He tries not to look disgusted.

"It's not that I'm drunk," she says in this small, sweet voice. She's clearly embarrassed, be it because she puked or because of what he might attribute it to.

"I'm not judging."

"Oh. Well. Anyways- I'm not drunk. I'm just sick."

"If you say so."

"I do."

There's a long moment of silence. She reapplies her lipstick- it's this baby pink color that, and then he notices her smeared mascara.

"Are you _crying_?"

Tim doesn't do crying girls. Unless it's Angela, in which case it's a different story. But as a general rule, no crying.

"What? no."

A pause.

"Maybe."

Another pause.

"So what if I am?"

"I was just asking."

"Well, please don't."

He shrugs.

"Fine by me."

They stand there in silence. He's smoking, she's crying. A bit loudly. Finally, he asks.

"Look, do you need some water or something? Because all I've got is a beer."

She shakes her head.

"I don't drink, but thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"I really wasn't drunk. I'm just- I'm just not feeling to well."

Looking past the streaked mascara, he notices she's actually pretty. Not stunning or hot or anything like Margret Sullivan, but really damn pretty.

"But you came to Bucks?" it's only sort of a question. He doesn't care if she tells him or not. But the way he sees it, she's not leaving soon and he can't quite think with her crying and what not, so he might as well see what he can make of this.

"I wasn't going to, on account of the whole, you know-" she gestures to the vomit. "That's why I told Gerry, my boyfriend, well, my _ex_ boyfriend, I guess- anyhow, that's why I told him he could go without me."

Tim knows where this story ends now, but she's not crying when she's talking, so he figured he'll let her finish.

"But I felt rotten about ditching him to go alone to a party, so I caught a ride with another friend of mine." her lip quivers then, and her next sentence is all warbling. "But I guess he wasn't as alone as I though..."

She hiccups.

"Sounds like an ass. I don't see why you're crying over that sort of fucker."

Angela once reprimanded him on his lack of empathy. He figures she would throw a fit if she saw him now. Angela is real mean when she wants to be, but she usually only wants to be when she's got a personal stake in something. She was never catty to a crying stranger.

"Well- Well, see, it's just that I dated him for a year, and he just _cheated_ like that..."

"From the way you tell the story, I don't figure it was _just like that_. Unless it was the first time you let him go to a party by himself."

From her expression, that was not the right thing to say.

"Look," he corrects, because even though she doesn't seem like the loud type, he doesn't want to risk getting an earful. It ain't worth the trouble, "All I'm saying is that you're pretty cute, and you seem sweet enough, so don't waste your breath crying over a dick who's gonna cheat with the first thing with breasts and long legs he sees."

He tries to sound sincere. It's true, a girl like her can probably score some nice guy who will treat her right. But being one of those guys he's warning her against makes it hard not so roll his eyes when he spouts the same shit he heard Angela blab about on the phone.

For whatever reason, this makes the girl smile a bit through her tears.

"Thanks. Really." she heads towards the porch door, but right before she heads in, she turns back to him and smiles. "You're a pretty nice guy, you know?" and then she's gone.

Tim just stands there, eyebrows raised, smirking. Then he turns back so he's looking out from the porch, and wonders whose nose he has to break to keep things from escalating before he figures this RK shit out.

* * *

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	2. Part One

**Notes:** Thank you so much for the reviews!

Chapter One

It happens on a Thursday.

Ned Quill and Will Burdge, two members of the Shepard gang, happen to look wrong at Danny Thompson and Stephen Dirk, two members of the River Kings who just so happened to rob a small shop on Shepard turf a few days back. A few choice words are traded, and Dirk, not one to hold his temper in, lets the first swing go.

Tim was very insistent on Dirk and Thompson swinging first.

Unfortunately for Dirk, Quill is a giant and Will is lean but strong, like a coiled spring attached to a fifty-pound brick. The RK boys leave with their tails between their legs and a few broken bones.

A week later, Thompson moves to Florida with his mother and Dirk shows up as school with a face so swollen he can't see out of his left eye.

"I swear Tim, neither of us fucked him up that bad."

They're on the top level of a car-park by the factory. No one ever parks there, because the factory shut down a few months ago, but they're still careful and listen for noise. Sometimes kids like to mess around here.

Quill is there, and Will, and Red and Whit. Tim sits on the hood of his car and hears Quill out.

"When they split, Dirk had a broken nose and a cut on his forehead, and a few busted ribs. But it wasn't that bad."

Will nods in agreement. He's tall, and has this mop of curly brown hair. He's handsome enough to always have a girlfriend and always bee looking out for a new one. He's also pretty good at knowing when it's time to be serious, and his face doesn't have a hint of a smile.

Quill, built like a brick shithouse, is surprisingly smart and reasonable, which is good to have in a guy his size. He's not book smart or even close too, but he does okay.

"And none of my other boys could have done this?"

"I gave clear instructions. None of them would."

Red is his second in command, at least until Curly grows a brain and a few inches. He rolled into town a few years back, and Tim is the only person who knows his real name. They kid would look dweebish, all red hair and a bit scrawny and freckled, but he's got a scar the size of Texas running straight across his face and is rumored to be good enough with a knife to hand out matching ones. He's smart and mean and keeps his trap shut.

"So we're looking at some other gang."

"Have the River Kings moved in on anyone other turf?" Whit asks this the way he asks everything; quietly and slowly paced. Whitney Elias Hail is a James Dean look-alike with a sadness that lingers around him.

"I haven't heard anything," Will says, and since Will has slept with a girl on almost every turf, he's a pretty good source of information, "But I'll look into it."

"All of you do. But I think it wasn't some other gang who did this. I think it was the River Kings."

Everyone turns to Tim.

"Think about it. This is the first fight between us since they started dancing around like that. And they were probably under the same order I gave you two."

There's a long pause.

"No way. It's one thing to slap around one of your own damn brothers. But he's half fucking blind."

"The Kings aren't like us, Red, you know that as well as I do. They think Tulsa is New York, and they're trying to do whatever they think it takes to make a quick buck."

Whit, he can see, is turning this idea over in his head. The rest look to shocked to contemplate it. He understands why. Your gang is your family, one you chose, and while you have to keep things in order sometimes, there ain't no sense in choosing a family full of punching bags.

"The River Kings," Whit says, and everyone strains to hear him, "Don't look at gangs like we do. At least, Harvey Norton doesn't. They aren't brothers, they aren't even members, they're _his_, it's not the same."

Tim nods.

"It ain't right," Will says.

"No, it ain't, but that isn't our problem." Tim pulls a smoke from the carton he keeps rolled in his sleeve, and lights it, "why does he want us to start the fight? _That's_ our problem."

"Like I said, I'll look into things." Will, somehow, can always find the answer if you give him time, "But Tim," he says, "I don't think this one is going to be easy."

* * *

The walk back from the bus stop is pretty long, and since it's getting late, Mattie calls for a ride. She dropped out of school a few months back, because a new beauty place opened up uptown and was offering to train girls for free to work there, and it paid pretty well considering you got to do hair and makeup all day. It had been the right choice for her and she never looked back, but waiting for a ride made her nervous, seeing how the bus station sometimes was thick with hoodlums.

She used to call Gerry to pick her up, but after the fiasco that Saturday, she calls Two Bit Matthews and hopes he's home. She's known Two Bit since before she could even talk, what with her and Sally Jo being best friends, and he'll always come get her if he isn't drunk or with some broad or out with his pals. One night he wasn't home and she had to call her uncle, who always smells like Tobacco and tries to run down stray cats.

Tonight, Two Bit answers.

"Matthews summer home, some are home, some are not."

"Hey Two Bit." Mattie keeps her sentences short since the breakup, because she always feels like her voice is going to crack if she doesn't.

"Hey, Kid, need another ride?"

"Yes please."

"Be there in a jiff- I hope you don't mind if I drag Pony along."

"Not at all.

"Great- wait inside."

"Sure thing."

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Smile, sunshine. I can here you frowning from all the way across town."

"Thanks, Two Bit."

She hangs up and heads inside the gas station store. There's a few guys with greasy palms and mean faces, but they know her and know a boy with tough friends picks her up, so they don't say anything. She buys a pack of gum, goes to the window, and waits.

Sally Jo and Gloria and her have been hanging out everyday, crying and eating ice cream and agreeing that Gerry is an ass, but it doesn't help much. He may be an ass, but he was her boyfriend for a long time. She _loved_ him, still loves him, and knowing he was sneaking around doesn't make it easier to forget him. That he hasn't even tried to talk to her doesn't help; she expected he would come after her or call her or apologize, but he didn't. Not that night, and not any night since. Gloria admitted, with a pained expression, that she heard he was going with the chick from Bucks now.

A car horn interrupts her thoughts, and she goes out and slides into the shot-gun seat of Two Bit's car.

"Hey, Two bit, hey, Ponyboy."

"Hey," Pony says. She only knows him through Two-Bit and Sally Jo, and through her cousin Emma, who's head over heels for him, but they're friendly enough.

"Hey, Kid. Mind if I drop off the other Kid first? School night and all, and I don't need Darry on my case."

"No problem."

Two Bit smiles and launches in to a story he'd been telling Pony, catching Mattie up quickly, and he's funny enough that Even Mattie cracks a smile she hasn't felt in days. From his glances in her direction, that was part of the point.

After he's done, Mattie turns to Pony.

"Hey, Emma told me you won some award for your writing. Congratulations." Pony is easy to talk to without crying, because you know the past few years have been tough for him and it makes your own problems seem small.

"Emma said that?"

Mattie, for the second time, smiles lightly.

"Yeah. She said she wanted to read your piece but you were being secretive."

"She never asked."

"She probably forgot. You know how she is, she talks so much she forgets what she's saying."

He laughs a little.

"Yeah. Well, thanks."

Two Bit smirks at her and softly hums the tune of one of those match-making shows, and Mattie resists the urge to swat at his arm, but Pony probably doesn't watch the show to get the joke.

He gets dropped off and waves goodbye, and Two Bit begins the drive to Mattie's house, which is a few blocks away.

"Thanks, again, for always coming to get me."

"How could I not? I'd miss all the exciting updates about Pony's love life."

"Well, maybe seeing a happy couple might make me feel better."

"Still not over that dipshit? Sure you don't want me to mess his face up for you?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, if you change your mind..."

"You'll be the first to know."

They drive in silence for a few moments, because Two Bit isn't good at helping with breakups unless it involves fists or jokes, when Mattie sees him.

"Hey- that guy. I know him."

"Who?"

"The one we just past."

"Black hair?"

"Yeah."

"You sure you know _him_?"

She looks in the mirror at his passing figure, but she's sure. The well-sculpted face, the slick black hair, the eyes like cut black glass, and the lean, but toned, muscle. She hasn't thought of him since she last saw him, but she's always had a good memory for faces.

"Well, not _know_ him. But we talked after... when I went outside at Bucks."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he told me I was pretty cute, he was really nice."

Two Bit bursts out laughing.

"What? What did I say?"

"Well, Mattie, if anyone could see the _nice_ is that boy, it would be you."

"Yo know him? Who is he."

"That, kid, was Timothy Shepard."

She sits in stunned silence for a whole block.

Then-

"Oh my god. Two Bit, I think I threw up in front of Tim Shepard."

He laughs all the way to her house, and for the first time since Saturday, Gerry doesn't occupy a single one of her thoughts.

* * *

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	3. Part Two

**Thanks for the reviews!**

Chapter Two

"I'm not sure about this."

Mattie is sitting in the backseat of Gloria's car, since Gloria and Sally Jo are upfront. She's in a black top with a low neckline and jeans that belong to Sally Jo, meaning they're pretty tight on her, and her hair is piled on her head so that she looks a bit like Audrey Hepburn. Her only comfort is in the baby pink lipstick she's got on, _French Pink_, which has been her color since a woman dropped it from her purse and Mattie's little eight-year-old hand grabbed it up. It looks good on her, and every month she saved up her allowance to spend the absurd amount it cost. Now that she works at the Salon, she can get it for almost cheap, so she had three tubes backed up in her drawer. It feels to her like a gun would feel in the hand of a boy. Like power.

Still, sitting outside Buck's with a face full of Makeup, all done by Gloria so it's smokey and heavy, she feels her stomach turn. She knows she looks nice enough- not at all like her, but nice enough anyways, but it's her first party since last week and she wants to throw up all over again.

"Look, Gerry has a game tomorrow, so he won't be here, okay? He may be a jerk but he's a _jock_ jerk."

Sally Jo Matthews is just about the best looking girl in town, except maybe Angela Sheppard, and she's a hell of a lot nicer. She's been Mattie's best friend since before Mattie knew what that was.

"I just don't know if I want to do this."

"Well I know, and you _do_"

Mattie only met Gloria when they began working together at the Salon, but she meshed well with her and Sally Jo and the three are now attached at the hip, to the point where Two Bit even stopped hitting on her. She's got more confidence and more blonde hair than Mattie would know what to do with.

Sighing, and knowing she'd be fighting a loosing battle if she kept insisting, Mattie steps out of the car.

A few kids are out in the yard, because a fight just happened, judging by the bleeding cut on some boys head. One of them happens to be Red whats-his-name, who catches sight of the girls and lets out a long whistle. Gloria hooks arms with Mattie and Sally Joe, and walks past him rolling her eyes. Red is like a bad smell; you dislike him at first and want him to go away, but eventually you get used to him and find him kind of comforting, in some stupid way. Mattie doesn't really know him, except he used to be in a few of her classes when she was sin school, but he reminds her of Tim Shepard, and she blushes.

Gloria must catch on, because she bumps hips with Mattie and whispers _"He_ probably isn't here, either."

Inside is warm, and there's cowboy music playing. Mattie doesn't mind it, but Sally Jo does and goes off in search of Buck, who will do almost anything she asks if she only bats her eyes, including switching the music to one of the few good records he owns.

Gloria disappears as well, on the arm of a boy with pretty blue eyes.

"Have fun!" she calls as she's dragging him to the center of the dancing, "Live a little!"

Mattie just makes a small noise of protest, and then, seeing that she's alone and teetering in heels that are to high for her, she walks to a wall and leans against it, observing the room. There are couples dancing close and a few getting rather forward. A boy is whispering something to a pretty redhead, who laughs and follows him up the stairs. A few boys are slamming down shots at a table, jeering and mocking each other.

Then a boy walks in, a few others with him, and the place gets quieter for a few moments. Two boys leave out the back, and the party that just enters disperse. The volume resumes. Mattie looks at the man who lead the whole thing; he's got greased black hair and a smile that looks as if it were slashed into his tan, leathery face.

He meets her eyes, and she looks away as quickly as she can, but it's too late. He's making a B line towards her.

"Hey, Darlin'," he says, his voice like metal in an oil slick.

"Hello." she tries not to seem nervous, but this guy gives her the creeps. She desperately searches for Gloria or Sally Jo, but the crowd is large and they're mixed up in it.

"You know, I saw you looking earlier, so feel free to take your fill now."

"I just noticed you, that's all."

His smile falls in a sharp motion. Mattie feels her gut twist.

"And what would you be noticing?"

"That... that you walked in, that's it, really."

She shrinks into herself a little, and he takes notice. His smile comes back, as awful as before, and that frightens her more than just about anything.

"Really? And If I don't believe you?"

"I don't see what's not to believe."

He pauses, glaring down at her in a way that makes her want to curl up.

"I'm not sure you caught my name. Well, let me tell it to ya- it's Harvey Norton."

Her stomach drops and she curses her luck that this would be the week for her to have run ins with two of Tulsa's worst.

"So listen, Darlin', I'm gonna ask you again. What would you be noticing?"

"Probably how ugly that damn mug of yours is."

Harvey turns around, and it's like the meeting of two titans.

"Shepard."

From this angle, Mattie can tell that his eye's aren't really black, just a hard, dark blue. He's got a scar running temple to chin, and his nose is crooked, so he's not really _handsome_, but there's something attractive about him. Nothing you could pin-point in any of his features, but it draws one in. Or at least, it draws Mattie in, because she immediately steps away from Norton and toward Shepard. It doesn't escape either boy's notice, and Norton's eyes narrow.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"It ain't illegal for me to come to a party. But I came to talk to you."

"Then say what you want to say, and stop harassing chicks."

There's a tense pause. Then Norton smiles.

"I just thought I'd let you know that tramp little sister of yours has been running around our side of town, stirring up trouble. You should keep a leash on her."

Tim's fist flexes, but doesn't move. He's containing himself.

"What my sister does is her own business. And we don't feel the need to keep our girls with leashes. Though I've heard you attach a cow bell to your girl."

There's no light in either boy's eyes as Norton continues.

"It usually wouldn't bother me that your side likes your girl's-" he looks Mattie up and down, and she steps further behind Tim - "_trashy_, but get your sister away from my boys."

"Maybe you should control your boys- get them away from my sister, if you're that threatened by a sixteen year old girl."

"We'll see, Shepard. I guess we'll see."

he turns then, nods to the boys he came in with, and they leave. Tim watches him go, and Mattie's legs are to shaky for her to risk moving.

Once he leaves, Tim turns to her.

"You don't actually look trashy. He just said that to get to me."

"Hm- oh. Oh, uh, thanks?"

He smirks, but not entirely unkindly. It's almost as if that's the closest he gets to actually smiling.

"If anything, I'd say the lack of vomit classes you up."

"Is that... meant to be a compliment?"

"If you want to take it as one, I won't object."

"Well, in that case, thanks. Again."

"No problem."

He takes a carton from his sleeve, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it with a lighter he must have lifted from someone or someplace with money.

"In it safe to assume you don't smoke?"

"Not even a puff."

"You look like that type."

They stand in silence that is neither comfortable nor awkward.

"You know, for a guy with your rep, you've been awfully nice to me."

He quirks a brow at her.

"Am I now? Well, I can't have you thinking that, can I."

He isn't smiling, but his eyes sort of are in a way that keeps her from getting shaken by him.

"Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?"

She can't believe she's standing here, grinning and teasing Tim Shepard. She supposed once you throw up in front of someone, it gets hard to be to worried about how dumb you look to them.

Tim leans towards her, still smirking, and Mattie is so shocked she doesn't even move from her spot.

"Trust me, doll," he says in a low voice that does something pretty nice to her stomach, as his eyes keep locked on hers, "what I'm gonna do ain't something nice folks like us discuss in public."

He leans back then, taking a drag, and grins.

"I'll be seeing you around."

And he's gone, just like every thought Mattie was going to entertain that night about Gerry.

* * *

"So Norton came into Bucks with a cheep pretense to insult your sister?"

Quill may be street smart, and Red may have read every book under the sun, and Will may be a social animal, but it Tim's inner circle has a thinker, it's Whit. Which is why Tim seeks him out.

"Yep."

"He's desperate for a fight."

"One he knows he can't win?"

"Not necessarily. I don't think he was expecting you to bust him up right there in Bucks. He probably expected you to tell him where to rumble so he could bring his buddies."

Whit's mother was a soc, once. Then she eloped with his dad and got disowned, but she never stopped living that life style, even when her husband died and the income stopped coming. Whit works seven nights a week and a few days as well doing custom jobs on bikes and making good money, but it all goes to keeping the bills paid and food on the table. That's why he joined the gang; he needed a family that knew how tough it was just to go another day.

"What do you think is going on?"

Tim isn't a thinker so much as he is a solver. Give him a problem and he'll give you a solution, but figuring out what the problem is in the first place drives him up the wall.

Whit takes a long moment to think.

"They want to prove their strength, but not their violence." he frowns, a crease forming between his brows, and somewhere, a girl feels a pang in her heart and a sense of longing. "I think there's a third party involved."

Tim exhales slowly, considering this. It makes sense, he guesses. More sense than anything else.

"You sure?"

"They're trying to prove themselves, and I don't think it's to themselves."

Tim nods.

"Alright then. I'll get the boys on this. You should get back to work."

Whit nods, and Tim moves to get in to the car.

"Hey, Tim," the younger boy calls.

"Yeah?"

"Watch out for that girl Norton was harassing. If you stepped in before he saw you coming, he probably was genuinely interested in her. And if she acted the way you said she did, he may think there's something between you two."

Tim scoffs.

"No way, Whit."

"Tim, Harvey Norton is a paranoid, jealous man. If he was given even the smallest sign that you knew her name, he's going to go crazy."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

He gets into the car then and peels off toward Red's usual hang out.

On his way, he figure he mights as well think of the girl.

He didn't catch her name, so he's been mentally referring to her as _Dollface_, because of the arsenal of appropriate pet names he's go at his disposal, that one fits her best, with her big eyes and pink lips. He likes her. It's rare that he thinks that about a girl. He's _attracted_ to a lot of girls, sure, but normally they're boring or stupid or annoying. And she may yet prove to be all of those things, but she's sweet and pretty and so far fun to kid around with. And he can't deny the thought of getting with her isn't exactly an unpleasant one.

So if Norton thinks he's gonna sink his meat hooks into her, Tim has no problem with him also thinking that Tim will knock his teeth in if he does-

_Well, shit_.

He hopes Whit is wrong about this thing with the girl. Because he ain't gonna give Norton what he wants, but assaulting a girl like her isn't something that sits well with him. And if Norton thinks that's the way to get to Tim, it's what he's going to go for.

He hopes she's got a brother, or something close to. He'll ask around. A girl like her doesn't deserve having Norton on her case. He still remembers Mary Chapman walking into school, after moving out of RK turf, and no girl deserves to have that look int their eyes.

* * *

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	4. Part Four

**Thanks for the reviews!**

Part Three

"Julian Cortez."

"Yep."

"Fucking Julian _Cortez_."

"That's what I said, right."

"that fucking asshole."

Tim is in the garage again. Will is there, explaining what some pretty blonde whispered to him, as are Red and Whit.

"This the same guy who peddles drugs to eleven year olds?" Red asks.

"Yeah. He's a piece of shit who would do anything for a cheap buck."

"Well then why is he talking to Norton?"

"Because he's an attention hog."

They all turn to Whit.

"Think about it. Norton's side has been getting pretty bad since Jason Dowler moved there and brought half the Tiber Street Tigers. So Norton wants guns, and Cortez works so far outside the law he's the quickest and cheapest way to get them."

"But that doesn't explain about the RKs wanting us to start shit," Will throws in. He's not to god at piecing things together and sometimes he gets antsy when he thinks he's missing something.

"Let me finish, would you? Here's the thing; Cortez is a flashy guy. He likes to know that people are going to be talking. And guns are harder to come by then drugs, so he's going to want to sell them to someone who he thinks is going to use them, but not people so trigger-happy they could get him in trouble."

Tim gets it then.

"So if we start something, and they fight back, they can show that they _need_ the guns and don't just _want_ them."

"Right. They'll be used but not overused, in theory."

"But why us?" Red asks, "Why not the Tigers?"

"Because Norton hates Tim's guts."

That's news to everyone but Tim and Red.

"It's a long story and it doesn't matter. All you need to know is that if Norton fucks this up, he probably won't get any weapons. Will, you start seeing figuring out what guys we can pick off easily. Whit, Red, you go talk to our good old friend Connie."

He pulls on his jacket and heads towards his car.

"And you?"

Tim smirks and Whit.

"I'm going to mark my turf."

* * *

It's been three days since the party when Mattie decides she had too do something about Tim Shepard.

It's all because of these stupid dreams she's been having lately, and frankly, they need to stop, because they're entirely inappropriate. She doesn't even know why they're happening; she's never been the type to have dirty dreams before, least of all about a near stranger. It's not that she's the virgin Mary or something- she and Gerry were pretty intimate, even if it was infrequent, but for some reason she never had that kind of dream about anyone. Not until now.

And she's pretty sure her mother is starting to take notice of the lack of steam in the bathroom after she showers.

She doesn't know _what_ she has to do about it, though. It's never been a problem she's had. So, like all confusing things, she asks Sally Jo and Gloria.

They're on Sally Jo's bed, painting their nails and eating pizza. They've got homemade mask on their face, and Sally Jo is letting a color treatment sink into her hair.

"So let me get this straight," Sally Jo says, "you threw up in front of Tim Shepard, and he was nice to you."

"Yeah."

"And then," Gloria picks up, "he saves you from Harvey Norton and is smoldering and nonchalantly nice."

"Yes."

"What were his exact words?"

"_What I'm gonna do about it isn't something nice people like us talk about in public_."

"And so," Sally Jo concludes, "you're now having dirty dreams about him."

"Yeah. That's my problem."

"I don't see how that's a _problem_. A minor inconvenience, maybe, but still."

"Gloria! I do not have sex dreams about hoodlums!"

"No shame in it if you do," Sally Jo says with a grin. "But if it's bothering you, I know the solution. It's simple."

Gloria nods in agreement.

"Really? What is it?"

They answer her in unison.

"You need to sleep with him."

Mattie near chokes on her pizza.

"No way."

"It's the _only_ way, honey. You're subconscious realizes you're attraction to him is unfulfilled, so it's trying to make up for the difference. But dreams don't compare to the real thing, so you keep having them because your brain keeps trying to reconstruct them. It's science."

"Not science they teach at any school."

"That's because society is trying to tell young women that they should be ashamed of their sexuality. But that's beside the point. Sally Jo, back me up on this."

"She's right. Everyone knows it."

"Well I can't sleep with Tim Shepard."

"Sure you can. You're cute with sexy potential. Guys love that. And Tim isn't really that hard to get in the sack when you're as pretty as you are."

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant."

"Come on, Mattie, would it be so bad? I mean, you've had sex before, right?" Sally Jo knows the answer to that, because after it happened for the first time Mattie called her in tears.

"Yes, but only with Gerry."

"And we all know how he was. Trust me, I've heard Tim hasn't got any of Gerry's problems." Gloria winks as she speaks.

Mattie blushes. Maybe she divulged a little to much information to her friends, but it wasn't like there was anyone else to talk to. It wasn't that Gerry wasn't_ good_, he was just always a bit preoccupied with himself unless she said something or asked him to do something specific, but those times were rare.

"Look, if you want to stop dreaming about him, you need to sleep with him. It's not that big of a deal."

"Exactly. Look- Hey! Two Bit!" Gloria calls. In a few moments, Sally Jo's brother appears at the door.

"You called- holly shit! What are you doing to your faces? Trying to discourage peeping toms?"

"They're facial masks. We're beautifying ourselves." Mattie says with a grin.

"Hate to tell you this, kid, but it ain't improving your looks much."

"It works when you take it off, stupid." Sally Jo says, flicking a Cherry Sour at him. He catches it and pops it in his mouth.

"Two Bit, if you're having dreams about someone, what's the best way to get rid of them?" Gloria asks. If it embarrasses her at all to ask Two Bit about this, it doesn't show.

"Well, you have to make your dreams a reality, if you catch my drift."

"We do. Thanks!"

he shakes his head as if to say _girls are weird_, but leaves. He mentioned earlier he had a date with the cute blonde who waited tables on the weekends.

"See?"

"I still don't like the idea."

"Have you _seen_ Tim Shepard?"

"That is hardly what I meant."

"Mattie, we aren't saying you should throw yourself at him and beg him to take you against the nearest surface. But put some feelers out. If nothing else, it'll help you move past Gerry."

Mattie caps the bottle of pink nail polish she was using, and lays down on the bed. Sleep with Tim Shepard to stop _dreaming_ about sleeping with Tim Shepard. It makes only a microscopic amount of sense.

"There's a get together in the lot behind that closed grocery store, right? One a lot of people might be at?" she finally asks, defeated.

"Yeah, there's going to be a bonfire and everything."

"Well, if you two wanna go once it gets a bit darker..."

Sally Jo smiles and Gloria squeals.

"But I'm doing my own makeup!"

* * *

**Sorry it's a short chapter, I've been a little swamped lately.**

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


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